THE DESIGNER-CLAD multi-millionaires are realising they're dressed head to toe in the Emperor's new clothes.

And slowly but surely the reality check gives them a chance of making a decent fist of things in Germany.

Rio Ferdinand receives a very public kick up the behind from Sven Goran Eriksson, Brand Beckham admits it's lost the bottle to hit a barn door from 12 yards, and, crucially, Steven Gerrard says he can't remember the last decent game he had for England.

A belter of an admission, which bursts the huge boil that cocoons this England team from the real world.

For too long Eriksson's misplaced loyalty and mammoth salary have been the scapegoats. But the Swede was never the only reason why the gap between what we expected from this England side and what we received grew into a chasm.

The biggest problem was a nation falling for the myth that it had a team of world-beaters about to trounce all in its path at the next major tournament. It's been a deliberate over-sell from agents, corporate sponsors and a multi-billion pound industry which conveys the notion that REAL football only began in 1992 with the creation of the Sky-fuelled Premiership. And anything that England did before it, with the freak exception of 1966 was, well, a Turnipesque embarrassment.

We are told that Eriksson has inherited a golden generation of attacking talent.

A fabulous front-six of "world-class" geniuses: David Beckham, Gerrard, Frank Lampard, Joe Cole, Michael Owen and Wayne Rooney (with potentially world-class back-up in the likes of Jermain Defoe and Kieron Dyer). But rarely has the phrase 'world-class' been so traduced. Because if this truly is a golden generation of attackers, how come after eight World Cup qualifiers against fair-to-piddling opposition they've managed a mere 14 goals? How do we put that into context?

Well look at the last World Cup qualifying group England were in with Northern Ireland, in 1986, in the pre-Super Sunday Dark Ages. After eight games they had scored 21 goals (and conceded only twice) against the tougher opposition of Romania, Finland, Turkey and a Northern Ireland side that qualified for successive World Cup finals.

Are the 1986 reserves such as Peter Reid, Trevor Steven, John Barnes and Tony Woodcock inferior to say Owen Hargreaves, Peter Crouch or Darren Bent? No.

I don't point this out to denigrate the current England side, but to show the unreal expectations that have been shovelled on them by an industry desperate for big returns. And a public that has tired of failure and cites film-star pay packets as reasons these players should deliver.

Well it doesn't work like that. The pressure was there on Bobby Robson's players in 1986, but expectations were guarded. England knew their limitations and were pleasantly surprised when it took the Hand Of God to knock them out in the quarter-finals. Making them a bronze generation.

In 1990 Robson's boys reached the semi-finals. That made them silver, to Alf Ramsey's gold. The same could be said for Terry Venables side in Euro '96. Another silver generation.

So far under Sven they've reached quarter-finals in Japan and Portugal, and have since done nothing to show progress above that bronze position, other than a few invididuals lighting up the European stage for their clubs.

It would be a good idea if we followed Gerrard's lead and had a radical review of the level of hype thrust on these young men.

Tell them that if the Linekers and Gascoignes belonged to silver generations, theirs is currently a bronze one with the odd sprinkle of gold-dust.

And in doing so we might finally motivate them to deliver an 18-carat riposte.